


The King and the Captain

by lossie



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I accept requests, My feelings are all over the place because of this couple, Romance, multiple AUs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-08 21:31:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3224159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lossie/pseuds/lossie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe he should have actually listened to the guard stationed outside the chambers who had tried to explain to him that the king was busy? It would have saved him some trouble, that’s for sure.” A collection of Thranduil/Tauriel one-shots. Requests accepted! Ratings may change, depending on the one-shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I needed an outlet for my feelings and this happened. It's loosely inspired by a post I've seen on tumblr which described the emotions playing on Thranduil's face during his confrontation with Tauriel (the bow-slashing scene, as well as the one on Ravenhill) and "Sum of Our Parts" by Mary Lambert. Of course I've taken some liberties and changed things up to suit my plot, but I hope you won't mind too much. I really, really needed to get it all out and writing is always the best way for me to go when I have too many things on my mind.  
> This story is only one of the upcoming one-shots that I will be posting here under one collective title. There will be much more of them and not all of those will be connected plot-wise, so don't be surprised if another one will be, let's say, a Modern AU, because it can (and probably will) happen at some point ;D  
> Also, I would like to inform you that I'm taking THRANDUIL/TAURIEL FANFIC REQUESTS from now on. If you would like me to write you a story, please write me a PM with details/send me a message on tumblr (I'm "lossie92" there) :)  
> I would recommend listening to "Emotional Soundtracks" by felicjl (on youtube) while you read.  
> And now, enjoy my writing at its gloomiest. If you will like it, please favourite and review. I really appreciate your input! :)

_Summary: "_ Her heart sang for him, the tune soft and gentle, and she was unable to resist that call – not then and definitely not now. _"_  
 _Genre_ : Romance, Hurt/Comfort  
 _Rating_ : K+  
 _Other info_ : post BOTFA AU **  
**

* * *

**MORE THAN OUR SCARS**

* * *

" _Which part of you is still in the wreckage?_  
Which part of you clipped your own wings?  
Which part of you will begin at your own end?  
Which part of you will you let live again?"  
-Mary Lambert, "Sum of Our Parts"

* * *

Before she met Kili, before her word had been painted in greys and before it had all basically gone to hell, Tauriel took many things for granted.

Her life had been simple then. Inside the vast caverns of the King's Halls, in the shade of Mirkwood's trees, she was supposed to feel safe and no suffering should have been able to touch her there. For a long time, far longer than was probably needed, she had been shielded from every danger. Her innocence and the pureness of her soul were only a few precious things that should have stayed with her forever. Even in her line of work, where death started to follow you like a shadow the day your fingers curled around your first bow or the hilt of your first blade, there was a possibility of living without the burden of someone's blood on your hands. After all the gruesome stories about great battles that had brought pain and loss alongside victories where just that back then – just stories which, while still horrifying, couldn't physically hurt her in any way.

She had been naïve, so very naïve, to think that life would spare her any more pain after her parents' tragic death that she had played witness to at a very young age.

Love hurt.

There was no other way to say it. The feeling was just as wonderful as it was painful, and Tauriel didn't want it – not now, not then, and not ever again – but it came to her all the same.

She watched in silence as the dwarves took Kili's body away and thought bitterly that maybe it was for the better. His heart would have been broken, just like Legolas' was, and she would have felt even more grief over her own stupidity than she already did. She had never meant for this to happened. Kili was a friend and a good person, and she had wanted to help him, because there was so much life and joy in him that she couldn't bear the thought of losing it forever. That was the reason why she had disobeyed the command of the king and went after the company of dwarves; why she had healed Kili and why she had threatened her king so he would see reason. It was all because she couldn't control the need to protect what little goodness and innocence was left in this wretched world. There was none left in her, at any rate, and for a split second she thought that maybe she would be able to make up for her own loss by saving someone else's soul from suffering through the same agony.

Legolas went after her, because he was too kind-hearted for his own good and his love for her was more than she has ever wanted it to be. He probably thought that if he tried a bit harder then maybe she would finally give in and returned his feelings. Of course it didn't work like that and so now he was gone as well – off to the North, getting further and further away with every breath she took. She had driven him away from his home, because her stupid heart couldn't chose him and couldn't love him in the way he deserved to be loved.

Her affections were her own and hardly logical, as most emotions were. She had given away all the best she had a long time ago to someone who didn't even know what to do with it or at least that was the impression she got. It wasn't a waste, as far as she was concerned, but maybe her decision was too impulsive. She had been barely off age at the time, still but a child, and she had gotten it into her head that she could fix him.

She looked up at the solemn figure of her king, breathtakingly beautiful as he was in the glow of the early morning sun, and cringed internally at herself. She had been such a child in her way of thinking. How could she have ever thought that mending him would be an easy task was beyond her.

Thranduil was standing a few steps away from where she was still sitting on the frozen ground. His eyes were closed, his posture rigid, and his face was a perfect mask of cold indifference, but Tauriel knew him too well to be fooled by this image of aloofness. Most would have missed it, but she had years upon years of experience with reading him. She could see his pain in the way his hands shook just a little or how his lids seemed to be squeezed too tightly. They were little things that told a story of someone close to a breaking point. She had seen him like this a few times before and every single one made her want to cry.

It had been years ago when she had first learnt about the king's past. The stories of his life travelled around the halls of his domain through the lips of his kin and in the form of gossip, but there had been truth hidden somewhere in-between the lines. Tauriel was simply clever enough to put it all together into one, discovering a story of a brave warrior who had lost too much and recived too little in return. She did so piece by piece, her curiosity pushing her forward. Somewhere along the way she came to a realization that he wasn't just an unfeeling statue on a pedestal made of stardust and flickering lights, but a being of flesh and blood, who had put on a mask of glacial indifference to hide behind a long time ago. It was not about image or presentation, or any other nonsense of that kind, but rather a matter of self-preservation in a world that seemed foreboding and malicious to someone so broken.

Her heart sang for him, the tune soft and gentle, and she was unable to resist that call – not then and definitely not now.

She stood up and walked over to him slowly, mindful of his state. It was hard to tell if he was even aware of her presence and she didn't want to startle him. She stopped barely a breath away from him, her arms rising on their own accord only to lay at the chest plate of his armour. She didn't dare move for the longest time, simply looking at him and wondering if her earlier actions hadn't undone years of her hard work.

He had been in such a pitiful state when she had first met him – guarded, distrustful, full of distain, and barely holding onto life itself. Healing him was like setting straight a bone that has been broken and then grew together in a wrong way. She needed to break him down, just like you would do with a wrongly set bone, and put him back together again. The process was time-consuming and incredibly painful, but it had been working.

It was impossible to tell when exactly did she fall in love with him, but it had happened. Afterwards, it had been more the matter of healing him so he could love her back than doing so for the sake of it.

Her hands shook slightly as she cupped his face in her cold palms, smoothing her thumbs along his high cheekbones. It was a gentle caress and something she has done on numerous occasions to let him know that she was there, ready to help in whatever way she could. He seemed to relax a bit, because of the familiarity of the gesture. His left cheek was warm against her fingers, just like the right one, but she knew that it was but an illusion. She had seen the scar a few times before, since the spell that hid it from view had a tendency to slip when Thranduil was angry or under the heavy influence of Dorwinion wine, which happened quite often.

And now, just like during those moments of lost composure, he was not the king.

Gone was the regal mask, gone were his coldness and hard unyielding stare. It was Thranduil who stood before her, bare and fragile in the most heartwrenching of ways. It was not an often occurrence for him to come apart so completely. In a place where anyone could play witness to his display of emotion it was even more unusual, but the strain of battle must have been too much.

Fear wasn't something to be ashamed of, Tauriel knew it well. Everyone was sometimes afraid and it was a natural way of things. In Mirkwood most feared spiders and orcs, and the darkness raising in the South, in the ruins of Dol Guldur. Soldiers shuddered at the sight of blood and the gore of a hard battle, although it was an all too familiar sight to most of them. Death was another thing a lot of elves were scared of, since it wasn't natural for an immortal to die and the thought of passing to the Halls of Mandos filled some hearts with dread.

Thranduil was brave, there was no doubt about it, and he wasn't really frightened by any of those things. They worried him, made him anxious and were often times a cause of a headache, but they didn't make him shrink away.

However, there was one thing that had such an effect on him.

Loss.

She had known about it and yet she had still pushed him until he relented and went after her. He had lost so much already – his parents, his wife, and his kin during many wars – and now his son was gone as well, away on a quest that would lead him far from home, and then there were now those nameless elves who littered the battlefield below Ravenhill like scattered broken dolls.

So many have died.

There would be parents without children and children without parents.

There would be widows and widowers mourning for their lost spouses.

There would also be a king grieving for his fallen people.

"How many?" She whispered.

The only answer she got was a beam of light that escaped from beneath his lashes and slid down the side of his pale face. Others came soon afterwards. At first she had tried to wipe them away, but when it proved to be rather futile, she simply pulled him down and embraced him tightly. Fingers wound into the silken strands of his light golden hair, she held him as close as she could, feeling every tremor that ran through his body as he cried silently for those they had lost. She could feel her own tears prickle at the corners of her eyes and so she squeezed them shut, burying her face in Thranduil's neck to hide her despair from the world.

His arms came around her a moment later, bringing her even closer to his body. She trembled when she felt his lips press lightly against the side of her neck.

"Forgive me. It was not my wish to cause you so much pain, _meleth_ ," she murmured so quietly she was barely able to hear herself, but he caught her words nevertheless. " _Gi melin, Thranduil. Gi meli_ _n_."

He inhaled deeply, his hot breath fanning against her chilled skin, before he kissed her again. Apparently encouraged by her confession, he took a hold of her head and pulled it away from his shoulder. She blinked at him slowly, her gaze still blurry with tears. His pale blue eyes were reddened, but still as beautiful as ever and seemed to glow with some new-found purpose. He leaned forward and laid his forehead against hers. They stayed like this for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes, before his fluttered closed once again. He tilted his head to the side and closed the remaining distance between their faces, capturing her lips in a tender loving kiss.

Tauriel didn't hesitate to respond and almost melted against him, a soft sigh of appreciation escaping her mouth as they broke apart for a brief moment only to kiss again a second later. The second kiss was less innocent, but just as languid and gentle. It was his wordless confession; a silent promise made to her and her only. His tongue shared a dance with hers, their movements slow, but steady. She could swear that with every sensual swirl of their tongues and every little bite he bestowed upon her lips, all rational thought escaped her, bit by bit. If the world around her ceased to exist in this very moment, she probably wouldn't have cared in the slightest, because right now she was holding her own universe within the confines of her arms.

When she started to feel lightheaded from the lack of air, she pulled away. A mere second later she had to bite her lower lip to stiffen a moan, when Thranduil's fingers moved slowly up her neck and then over the pointed tips of her ears, before moving back down. He repeated this a few times, watching as she shivered and listening to her sighs of pleasure. Unable to handle it for much longer, she caught his wrists, seizing them in an iron grip, and then, without giving it much thought, she brought his hands to her lips and kissed his palms.

The shadow of a smile she recived in response was worth more than any words he could have said instead.

He bent down and brushed his lips against hers once more, only to then move them slowly across her cheek and to the side of her head, where he kissed her softy, first on the temple and then on the ear. Afterwards he rested his head against her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her in the same manner they have embraced before.

Tauriel hugged him close, breathing in his comforting scent of moist earth and pine trees. She combed her fingers through his hair with one hand, while the other massaged his scalp.

" _Lirimamin Tauriel_ ," he whispered and she wondered if it was possible for them to stay like this forever. It seemed as if they were hidden from view and scrutiny of the world, safe and sound within each other's arms.

Someone cleared their throat.

Thranduil's arms tightened around her, hindering any possible attempts to disentangle herself from his firm hold. She stiffened for a moment before realizing that at this point it was already too late to worry about proper behaviour or other such things, which made her relax, if only by a fraction.

"Sire," said a familiar voice, belonging to Thranduil's butler, Galion. "I am afraid your presence is required in the city below."

Heaving a deep sigh, the king raised his head from her shoulder, but he didn't turn around to face the _ellon_ as she expected he would. Instead, he looked straight at her, his gaze boring into her green eyes with untold intensity.

"Very well," Thranduil declared in a strong even voice. "Give order to set a camp. Move the wounded there. We will stay for the night before returning to the woods. Arrange a meeting with Bard the Bowman and the dwarf, Dain. I shall speak with them as soon as it is possible."

"Yes, my lord. And should I…" Galion seemed to hesitate, but he then continued after a short pause, "Should I find a suitable place of rest for Captain Tauriel?"

"That won't be necessary," was the king's response as the corners of his lips lifted into a barely visible smirk. "She will be staying with me."

For a second she thought he was jesting. Apparently her shock was evident, because he brought one of his hands up to brush his knuckles against her cheek in an intimate gesture of comfort. She was sure that Galion could see it well enough from where he stood, but found herself not caring about his opinion about it in the slightest. Thranduil's eyes were soft as he looked at her in a quite imploring manner, almost begging her with his gaze alone to not argue, and she understood almost instantly that he needed her, just as much as she needed him.

Maybe it was also wise to finally stop hiding their feelings for each other in the shadows. It wasn't something they should be ashamed of, after all.

"Of course, my lord," the butler replied, amusement colouring his usually rather dispassionate voice. "I shall take my leave now."

They barely took notice of his departure, too occupied with each other to truly notice anything else.

"Stay," the king whispered as he took her hands in his, entwining their fingers together and squeezing them lightly. "Stay with me and never leave again."

Tears of happiness escaped her eyes and slid down her cheeks when she nodded, a smile blossoming on her face.

There were still things they would need to address. There were matters that would have to be discussed sooner rather than later. There were confession left unanswered and new ones to make. There was a future ahead, painted with both light and darkness in equal measures. There was still pain in both their hearts and there were scars that still ached from time to time.

Tauriel knew that it was the beginning of something far bigger than anything she had experiences thus far, but she wasn't alone anymore and Thranduil's presence by her side gave her enough strength to hope and dream about the future.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A belated Valentine's Day gift for you all. I actually don't really like the holiday all that much, but I decided to throw something for you. I hope you won't mind the angst. As you've probably noticed already, I seem to be unable to write things without turning them into some sort of emotional drama at some point, though I promise you that the next one-shot I will be posting here will be a comedy and not as angsty. I apologize for any tears this story may cause ;)  
> This little thing was inspired by "Transformation" from "Beauty and the Beast" (both the music and the scene itself, and I would recommend listening to the soundtrack while you read!) as well as the healing incantation from "Tangled".  
> I would also like to remind you that I'm taking THRANDUIL/TAURIEL FANFICTION REQUESTS , so don't hesitate to write me a PM on ff.net/add it to your comment, if you have something in mind for those two!  
> Please, don't forget to leave comments and kudos when you are done!  
> Enjoy!

_Summary:_ _“_ “We are all fools in love,” she had whispered as she ran her fingers softly over his cheek.” _  
 _Genre__ : Romance, Angst, Drama  
 _Rating_ : T  
 _Other info_ : post LOTR AU, very emotional, death

* * *

**WHAT ONCE WAS MINE**

* * *

It was finally over. After years upon years of constant fighting and overwhelming fear, after countless deaths and oppressing darkness, the struggle has ended and Arda was free of Sauron, his life quenched once and for all.  
  
The happy news reached Minas Tirith a week after the remains of the armies of Men and Elves had marched to the Black Gates of Mordor. Afterwards all that was left to do was waiting as patiently as it was possible for those who had survived to return. There was no information about the fallen or the injured, no way of knowing just how bittersweet their victory truly was, so it was easy to understand why most people awaited for their loved ones before starting any celebrations. The atmosphere in the city was laced with happiness, but tense, and Tauriel felt the worries of those around her reverberate more and more profoundly through her very soul as the days went buy and there was still no sight of the armies on the horizon.  
  
She had been forced to stay behind by the injuries she had suffered from during the Battle of Minas Tirith. Elves healed far quicker than Men did, but it did not mean she could ride out to do more fighting when her shoulder was dislocated, her arm broken and her skull cracked. Truth be told, she was barely conscious enough to say her goodbyes to those few who had come to seek her out before condemning themselves to the unknown fate. She remembered the tightness in her throat as she had one by one squeezed the hands of her companions from the Fellowship. Aragorn’s face had been a mask of politeness and calm, as was Legolas’, even though she knew they felt more than they let on, but Gimli had not bothered to hide his feelings from her and had been clearly distraught by the possibility of never seeing her again, even though they had been at each other’s throats most of the time. Mary and Pippin were staying behind as well, both injured and deemed unfit to travel the long distance in their current state, but they seemed to be content with it. They had seen more death and battle than most hobbits would ever do, and did not need to see even more.  
  
After her companions had left her to rest, she expected tears to come, but they did not appear. She had simply laid on her cot, unable to fall asleep, her mind miles away.  
  
That was how King Thranduil had found her when he came to see her.  
  
Surface to say, she was not expecting him. They haven’t seen each other since the Battle of the Five Armies and although she had briefly spotted him on the battlefield, she never gave it too much thought. What they had had in the past had been lost long ago, buried within their souls like a secret, a memory that was too painful to revisit too often. And yet, when he had lowered himself to a sitting position beside her, she could see all of his feelings she had thought were long gone in the brightness of his light blue eyes.  
  
Her heart fluttered as she remembered the way in which he had taken her hand in his, bringing it to the side of his face and holding it against it with the most heartbreaking expression of longing adoring his handsome features.  
  
“I have been a fool,” he had said to her then, his voice quiet, but clear and calm.  
  
“We are all fools in love,” she had whispered as she ran her fingers softly over his cheek. Everything in her had been singing with happiness. She had not lost him. She never did. “Promise me you will come back.”  
  
It had been an impossible request, she knew, but she had needed to know that it was not the end. They had just found their way back to each other for this brief moment and she refused to believe it was all they were ever going to get.  
  
“Tauriel…” He had closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they reflected perfectly the fear that was threatening to suffocate her. “You know I cannot do it. The odds are not in our favour. If we survive…”  
  
“Please,” she had urged him, her other hand catching his firmly and entwining their fingers. “I need to have something, anything, to hold on to while I wait.”  
  
He had hesitated for a moment, clearly reluctant to give his word for something that was so far-fetched, but in the end he had promised her he would come back. With a fleeting kiss to her forehead, he was gone and it was then that she had cried.  
  
A sigh escaped her lips as she pulled her warm woollen cloak tighter around her shoulders. Winter was almost over, but the air was still biting and cold. The plains of Gondor were a wasteland and she highly doubted that the arrival of spring would make much of a difference, at least not this year. It would take time for those lands to once again flourish with life, but they finally had it in abundance and the thought made the corners of her lips quirk in a small smile.  
  
“I thought I would find you here.”  
  
She send Galion as sidelong glanced. The _ellon_ was still using a walking stick and ever step he took seemed to be a struggle. Both of his legs had been broken and, although the bones had mended well, it would be months before he fully recovered.  
  
“Am I that predictable?” She wondered as she moved to the side so he could sit next to her on the stone bench.  
  
“Quite so,” he teased with a smirk, slowly lowering himself down, his body tense and rigid with pain. “I hate those bloody things!”  
  
“Your legs?”  
  
He rolled his eyes at her question, but the amusement in them betrayed that he wasn’t as irritated with her as he would have liked her to think.  
  
“Those too.”  
  
He looked ahead, probably admiring the magnificent view. From where they sat at the very edge of the enormous courtyard, the land below seemed far away and detached, as if it was only an image painted on the canvas by a rather unimaginative artist. The sky was a nice shade of blue, contrasting with the greys and murky browns of the ground, and the sun was warm on their faces.  
  
“Is something the matter, _mellon nin_?” She asked , turning in her seat so she could look at him freely without shifting positions every now and again. “You seem distant.”  
  
“I am worried,” he admitted earnestly. They had been friends for so long there was no point for him to try and lie to her. “I should have rode with the king. I should have been stronger. It weights down on me that something might have happened to him and I…”  
  
“Don’t,” she interrupted him, the tone of her voice colder than she hads intended it to be. “Please. Don’t say things like that.”  
  
“Forgive me.”  
  
“There is naught to forgive.” Tauriel waved him off, looking down at her fingers which were pulling at the hem of her dark green tunic. “I just don’t want to hear… Don’t want to even think…”  
  
“You won’t lose him, my lady,” he proclaimed with conviction. “He is too stubborn to let you go.”  
  
Her head snapped up at his words, mouth agape and eyes blown wide.  
  
“What?”  
  
Galion sighed in obvious exasperation.  
  
“His feelings for you were never a secret, not to me or any others within our kingdom.” He was looking at her in such an intense way that it made her more uncomfortable than his words. “I have known him for a long time, longer than you can possibly imagine, and yet his affections for you had surprised me at first. I thought I was seeing things, but then I simply decided to ask him and he had no qualms about admitting that he intended to make you his. And there was such conviction in his words! As if he was certain that he would succeed! It would have been so, I am sure…” A shadow fell across his features. “But then you fell in love with someone else.”  
  
She knew they had been on the path to becoming more than merely companions. It had been in the little gestures – his soft smiles, the fleeting touches here and there, and in every look he was giving her – but she was hesitant to let him in. At the same time she had no problem whatsoever with embracing her feelings for Kili. It must have wounded him greatly, both his feelings and pride, that she could so swiftly forget about everything there ever was between them and ran off after someone she barely even knew.  
  
“Love cannot be compelled, Galion,” she responded quietly to what sounded to her ears like an accusation. “Everyone makes mistakes. We are not omnipotent, are we? I’ve been trying to right my wrongs for the last few decades and sometimes it feels like I’m still standing on Ravenhill, looking into his eyes…” She trialled off, her throat tight with regret as the memory of everything that has happened between her and Thranduil on that faithful day returned to her at once. “I didn’t even consider returning. I know now that I could have come back, but… I had aimed an arrow at him, I called him loveless, I broke him… Do you understand? I couldn’t live with myself and coming back to Mirkwood where everyone would know about my betrayal, where everyone knew about his affections for me… It would have been too much.”  
  
“I understand,” he reassured her, reaching out to lay a comforting her on her shoulder. “But I doubt your absence helped. He was a shadow of himself. The only moments when he appeared to be somewhat alive was when a letter from Lord Elrond would arrive with the news about you and the prince. At any other moment, he was barely holding onto life itself. I believe the hope that he will see you and his son again was the only thing that had kept him from fading.”  
  
“Was it really so bad?” Her voice sounded small and fragile, but she needed to know.  
  
“It was worse.”  
  
Silence fell between them as she mulled over Galion’s words. It was hard to imagine that Thranduil truly loved her so deeply that he was on the verge of dying of grief when she had abandoned him. He was meant to love his wife even after her death, not some lowly Silvan _elleth_ who was too hot-headed and impulsive for her own good. The depth of his feelings terrified her and made her want to bolt once again. Maybe it was the true reason behind her decision to follow Kili and the rest of his company. After his death she grieved for many moons, but she soon discovered that she did so more for the lost chances rather than anything else. True, she had loved the brave young dwarf, but the feeling had been innocent and naive, and not founded enough to hold her heart forever. It didn’t make it any less real, though it put a new perspective to the cause of her grief.  
  
She had missed Mirkwood greatly in her years away, but she came to this realization only after coming to terms with the fact that maybe her love for Kili simply wasn’t meant to be. It took a long time before she was finally able to admit to herself that she had in fact loved Thranduil from the very beginning. There had been nothing she could have done about it at that point, so she simply buried it as deeply within her heart as she could manage. She was glad now that she hadn’t even tried to put it behind her, for she would have then never discovered that he still cared for her as well.  
  
Fortunately, years of lost chances were behind her now.  
  
Her gaze drifted to the horizon, as it always seemed to do these past couple of days. A blink of sunlight against something caught her attention and her eyes widened when she realized her sense of sight was not tricking her this time, as the light was in fact dancing across the shiny armours of the armies finally returning from the last battlefield of this forsaken war.  
  
“They are here,” was all she was able to say before she stood up and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.  
  
“They are here!” She shouted as she ran, startling those she passed by with her joyfulness.  
  
Some joined her when they gathered her meaning and soon enough she was leading a small army of her own to the stables in the lower part of the city. When they arrived they, she ordered for horses to be readied at once and instructed those who wished to ride out with her to collect supplies for the returning warriors. Everything was a flurry of movement afterwards as Men and Elves run about, their excitement almost tangible.  
  
They rode out as soon as they were ready. Tauriel urged her horse, a beautiful grey mare called Yule, to move faster and faster still. She did not care that she was leaving her companions behind. He was so close that she could see him as he sat atop his giant elk, bloodied and weary, but alive, and she couldn’t bear to be parted from him any longer than necessary. There were words he needed to hear, words she needed to speak, words that had been withheld for far too long. Minutes stretched on as she drew closer to him, but when she was finally close enough, it became clear that something was very wrong.  
  
His eyes locked with hers. He smiled, his too pale face brightening slightly with the soft gesture, before he swayed in his saddle. She jumped off Yule and managed to reach his side just in time to break his fall. They stumbled to the ground in a graceless heap, his body falling on top of hers. She shifted their position so they would be more comfortable and noted with dismay that the front of her tunic was now completely soaked with blood, which was pouring from the grievous wound at his side.  
  
Her breath hitched when it started to form a halo of red around them.  
  
“A healer! We need a healer!” Tauriel cried out, even though she knew deep down there was nothing that could be done to save him at this point. He seemed to be aware of it as well. His hand gripped hers as tightly as he could manage in his weakened state to let her know it was alright, though it was quite obviously not so. “It will be fine. Just hold on for a little longer.”  
  
“Tauriel,” he said her name like a prayer. “I am back…”  
  
“Yes, you are,” she choked out as she cradled his head in her lap, running her bloody fingers through his hair in a gentle caress. “My brave king.”  
  
“I promised you… I would… Did I not?”  
  
“Yes, you did. You’ve kept your promise,” She whispered. “Oh, I should have gone with you… Should have insisted on going! That stupid injury… It wouldn’t have happened then! If only…!”  
  
“It… It is not… Your fault.” A wet cough escaped him as blood splattered across his lips. “Maybe it’s better… It’s better this way.”  
  
“Don’t talk like that,” Tauriel admonished him half-heartedly, laying her fingers on his lips to hush him. She loosened the high collar of his tunic and the decorative clasp of his long cloak so he could breathe more easily, though it hardly seemed to help. “You will be alright. We are together now and everything is going to be fine, you’ll see...”  
  
He lifted one of his hands and softly run his fingers along her temple before laying it on her cheek. It shook, as the effort to keep it there was too much for him. She took a hold of his wrist as she nuzzled his palm, her eyes closing briefly.  
  
“A-at least… I got to see you… One last time.”  
  
His arm went limp and slid from her numb fingers, falling to his side. She heard him exhale slowly, but he did not drew in another breath. His chest stopped moving right afterwards and the wet sound which had accompanied his laboured breathing was gone as well.  
  
She stared at his still face and into his sightless half-lidded eyes for a few long minutes before she truly realized what had happened.  
  
Tauriel’s anguished howl pierced the air like thunder, loud, and clear, and utterly heartbreaking. Time seemed to stop as she curled around Thranduil’s lifeless body, bringing it as close to her as she could manage. Rocking back and forth, her body shaking violently with every shuddering breath, she yearned for nothing more than for death to claim her as well. She was vaguely aware of voices somewhere above her, but she did not care what they were saying. The world could have ended at this point and it would mean nothing, because hers had just slipped through her very fingers.  
  
Everything in her was breaking and falling apart into tiny pieces that could never be put back together. Or maybe she was simply being torn apart as an invisible force ripped out her still beating heart only to trample it with raw brutality into the cold hard ground. She remember through a fog that she had felt like this before, years ago, when she had held Kili in much the same manner at the snowy slope of Ravenhill, though this time it was much worse.  
  
 _Why does it hurt so much?!_  
  
“Tauriel…” Her name sounded foreign to her ears. She did not look up or loosen her grip as she felt someone lay a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Tauriel, you need to let him go…”  
  
 _Because it was real._  
  
“No!”  
  
She shook the offending hand off her, turning around in a blink to glare furiously at the person who had spoken. Although her gaze was blurred by tears, she still recognized the face of Legolas, who was standing just a mere step away from her. He looked rattled and at the brink of coming apart, and she could relate to this, to him, but she simply could not comply to his wishes.  
  
“Tauriel, you…”  
  
“No!”  
  
Without sparing Legolas another look, she once again buried her face in Thranduil’s neck, inhaling his earthy comforting scent, which was now mixed with blood. She shivered as she realized that his skin was losing its natural warmth.  
  
“You cannot leave me… Not now…”  
  
 _If this is love, I do not want it… Take it from me. Please!_  
  
“Give him back to me,” she whimpered, though she hardly believed her prayer would make a difference. “I beseech you, give him back!”  
  
She repeated those words in her head over and over again, as if they could prove to be powerful enough to right the wrongs at any given moment. Immersed in her pain, she missed the little sparks that started to fly around her all of the sudden and the shouts of surprise of those who could see them clearly. What she did not miss, however, for the beam of light that seemed to ascend onto them all from the sky above. She lifted her head and a breathy gasp escaped her as she looked at her arms, still holding onto Thranduil’s prone body, which were shining like the brightest of starts. She, not the sky, was the source of the mysterious light. It was almost blinding, but she could not tear her eyes away as it seemed to bit by bit spread to her surroundings. The ground underneath her grew warm and then fresh grass, along with an abundance of colourful flowers, started to spring from it. The soft carpet of green grew and grew, and the sweet aroma of daisies, dandelions, and asters filled the air, which had lost its wintery bite some time ago. The world around came alive as if blessed by some deity and it was breathtaking to witness this unexpected change, even if she was at the same time afraid to move.  
  
How was it possible? She had always had a gift for healing, but this went far beyond anything she had ever been able to do.  
  
Her eyes snapped to Thranduil when she felt him stir and she watched with fascination as colour returned to his face. He drew in a deep breath, his skin still alight with whatever magic she had somehow managed to bestow upon him.  
  
“Thranduil, please,” she whispered as held his face between her trembling hands. “Please, open your eyes…”  
  
His chest was moving as he breathed evenly, but he was unconscious. The left side of his face and his light hair were coated with warm blood from small wound at his forehead that was now gone. Head injuries bleed the most, she knew, even when they were shallow, but the sight of so much redness after the recent events put her on edge. Still, there was no sight of any injury on him whatsoever now and she let herself relax by a friction.  
  
He was alright. The Valars had mercy on them and decided to return him to her, which she was so thankful for she couldn’t put it into words.  
  
The blood smudged in a long red line as she smoothed her thumb across his left cheekbone. She felt like she had been sitting there for hours already, holding him and calling his name as she waited, but it was no more than a few minutes at most. She couldn’t explain what was happening to her. It felt as if she couldn’t get away from him. Something inside of her was calling out for him, to him, urging her to stay where she was. It was as if no time had passed since they have last been together, as the feeling of longing inside of her was a familiar inferno, but it was much stronger now and different in the way. She could feel it deep inside and so she was unable to let him go, as if her very life depended on whether or not she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers.  
  
“Tauriel…,” his voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough. She observed as his eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused. “I thought I died. Was I mistaken?”  
  
“You did,” she somehow managed to say through tears, smiling broadly as she lowered her head so she could kiss him lightly on corner of his mouth. “You died. But then there was light, bright and warm like nothing I have ever felt. Grass and flowers started to grow on their own as the light travelled from me in every direction. You shone as brightly as I did and you came back. Just like that!”  
  
Thranduil’s expression betrayed nothing as he slowly sat up, holding onto her for support. Those who had previously moved away, frightened by her show of powerful magic, took cautious steps back, eyeing her warily. The Elvenking looked around, taking everything in, as his fingers smoothed over the soft grass and delicate petals of the many flowers. He seemed to be in a trace, lost in his thoughts, but he recovered from it quickly enough, turning to gaze into her eyes with the same intensity she remembered from the years past and their last meeting.  
  
“You have a gift for magic,” he said quietly as a small smile stretched across his lips. “A gift suited for a queen, I would say.”  
  
She blushed at his words.  
  
“I am no queen, my lord.”  
  
“Not yet,” was all he said before he took her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips without a care in the world. The crowd around them cheered loudly, clearly overjoyed with their happy ending. Tauriel was deaf to their voices though as she returned Thranduil’s kiss with feverish passion.  
  
All was finally well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legolas is the king of sass at the beginning of this story. Not that I blame him. And you won’t blame him either.  
> This was supposed to be serious and a bit sad, but then I let myself imagine the entire situation and I couldn’t stop laughing for some good ten minutes. In the end I decided to go with the sassy-and-slightly-ridiculous approach with just a sprinkle of angst.  
> Also, I feel like the first part of this story is the worst nightmare of most children… Let me know in the comments/reviews if you agree! ;)  
> The story was written for the lovely ITHILWEN86, who requested it via PM on fanfiction.net. I hope you will like it! <3

_Summary: "_ Maybe he should have actually listened to the guard stationed outside the chambers who had tried to explain to him that the king was busy? It would have saved him some trouble, that’s for sure.” __  
_Genre_ : Romance, Comedy  
_Rating_ : M  
_Other info_ : post BOTFA AU, crack-ish, smutty

* * *

**KNOCK, KNOCK**

* * *

 

  
Sometimes Legolas wondered if knocking hasn’t been invented for the sole purpose of preventing some truly awkward situation from occurring. Not that he ever bothered with it in the first place, but maybe he should actually start to, as the scene he was playing a very unwilling witness to was not exactly the type of which he wanted to see often. Or at all, if he was being completely honest with himself.  
  
Tauriel was currently laying on the bed under his father with her ankles crossed just above said elf’s naked butt, moving completely in sync with him and emitting sounds that were going to haunt Legolas in his nightmares for the years to come. As if that wasn’t enough for a good night terror material, Thranduil seemed to be enjoying himself immensely as well, if the sounds he was producing and the rather frantic way in which he was moving were anything to go by. They were oblivious to Legolas’ presence at the entrance of the king’s spacious bedchamber. It spoke volumes of how much they wanted each other.  
  
Legolas had a sudden urge to gag at the thought.  
  
This was so wrong on so many levels he didn’t even know where to begin.  
  
Maybe he should have actually listened to the guard stationed outside the chambers who had tried to explain to him that the king was busy? It would have saved him some trouble, that’s for sure.  
  
For a moment he considered leaving without saying anything. After all he should have probably announced his presence instead of just entering his father’s private chambers like he had done many times before. This way he would have surely avoided the spectacle that awaited him inside. Then again, if he simply left, there would be only one person scarred for life by the horrific experience and Legolas absolutely refused to be a victim of anything, so without giving any more thought to what he was about to do, he loudly cleared his throat and watched in mixture of amazement and lingering shock as Tauriel almost jumped out of her skin at the sound and how Thranduil stilled completely before turning his head to the side to look at him. The _elleth_ ’s green eyes were wide as saucers when she peered at Legolas over his father’s bare shoulder. Both of them turned fifty shades of red in a span of a few seconds, which was quite entertaining to observe. Since they were connected at the hips in ways Legolas didn’t even want to consider, let alone know anything about, they couldn’t quite move away from each other without making the situation at hand more awkward and so they stayed in their rather compromising position, motionless and probably a bit frightened as well.  
  
“ _Adar_ , Tauriel,” he greeted them in the most neutral voice he could muster, though he was fairly certain that his face was a bit too green to make it work. “I see that you have managed to resolve your differences.”  
  
“Legolas. It’s, um, good to see you…” Thranduil’s voice was deeper by a few octaves and came out more like a growl. Tauriel squeaked out something very incoherent that could be vaguely considered a greeting of some sort as she ducked down to hide behind her partner-in-crime’s body.  
  
“The sentiment is not returned,” Legolas responded, this time unable to hold back a grimace.  
  
Truth be told, at this point he was torn between making a run for it and dry-heaving where he stood, already deeply regretting his decision to interrupt this very intimate and very I-never-wanted-to-see-this moment. His brain was beginning to catch up with the rest of his body, which meant more or less that he was about ready to bash his head on the nearest surface to both clear it of the disturbing images that were now freely floating there and to rid himself of any lingering stupidity that could make him do something even more moronic than this. The realization that he was actually looking at his father and his best friend in flagrante was still not fully registering, though he was slowly getting there.  
  
“We didn’t know you were coming,” his father informed him in a rather accusatory manner.  
  
For some reason the statement made Legolas’ blood boil and his eyes narrowed in anger.  
  
“I wasn’t aware I now need to announce myself before returning home.”  
  
“A little knock would have been greatly appreciated.”  
  
“Please, do forgive me for being in a haste.”  
  
“The door is there for a reason, son!” Thranduil bellowed, his eyes blazing and his face turning a nasty shade of purple. It would have actually made him appear quite intimidating if he was in any other position, but, as it was, it simply looked ridiculous. “And it’s not a decorative one!”  
  
“I have never before needed to knock!” Legolas rebuked as he clenched his fists in an effort to stay relatively in control, which wasn’t an easy task at all.  
  
“Of course you did, you insolent child! You simply never bothered to do so!”  
  
“Is that so?! I don’t remember you ever telling me to…!”  
  
“Do I truly need to remind you about it every single time? Son, you are…”  
  
“Don’t call me son when your… is in her… !” Legolas emitted a sound that was very unelvish, but expressed his feelings on the matter perfectly. “Just don’t do it!”  
  
His father opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was going to say was never voiced as someone chose that very moment to knock on the door.  
  
“What?!” Both Thranduil and Legolas shouted at the same time as they continued to glare daggers at each other.  
  
The door was opened a friction so that the person on the other side could be heard.  
  
“I-I’m s-sorry to in-interrupt,” a tentative female voice said, “b-but t-the Lady T-Tauriel is n-needed in the n-nursery…” There was a short pause. “I-it’s urgent?”  
  
The information seemed to calm his father considerably, though now it was Tauriel who looked as if she was about ready to murder someone. The two on the bed started to move and Legolas managed to turn away just in time to avoid getting flashed by more flesh than he ever wanted to see. Sadly, it didn’t quite help with the sound effects. He shuddered as he heard them shift. The weird slapping noise that accompanied the moment when they finally disconnected actually made him choke on his own saliva.  
  
Thankfully, it was over rather quickly.  
  
Tauriel, now dressed in a long golden robe and with her hair flowing behind her like liquid fire, passed him on her way to the door. She stopped on the threshold to glare at him and then at his father, her green gaze hard as steel.  
  
“Behave,” was the only thing she said through gritted teeth before she exited the bedroom, slamming the door behind her with enough force to wake up the dead.

-o-o-o-

Thranduil couldn’t quite decide what was the worst part of the current situation – the fact that Legolas saw them, the fact that Tauriel seemed to be about ready to combust because of both embarrassment and utter mortification, or the fact that he was somehow still aroused.  
  
Either way, he had highly doubted the situation could get much worse until one of the maids came knocking on the door to remind him that he indeed had one more secret to share with his son. Not that his union with Tauriel was much of a secret nowadays.  
  
With a deep sigh he rose from the bed and proceeded to dress himself in layers upon layers of clothing, mostly in hopes of successfully covering his nether regions, which were still firmly refusing to cooperate with him. When he was more or less satisfied with the way he looked, he turned to address his son, only to discover him standing with his back to the room and in the same spot by the door he had been occupying since walking in.  
  
“We should talk,” he said calmly after a moment of silence.  
  
Legolas only nodded briskly in response before leaving the room in such a hurry as if he had been waiting to do so forever. Thranduil followed him into the antechamber, where he busied himself with pouring them both a glass of wine while his son took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the burning fireplace.  
  
Though the winter has only just arrived to Mirkwood, it was already so cold outside that all the hearths were constantly lit to keep the chill from slipping into the fortress.  
  
He had only just managed to sit down himself after pressing a small glass of Dorwinion into Legolas’ hands when the left wing of the main doors opened and Tauriel walked in. In her arms she was carrying a small child who was bundled up in a blue woollen blanket. Thranduil put his glass onto the nearby table and then sprang to his feet to meet her in the middle of the room, completely ignoring Legolas, who was spilling wine all over his trousers and looking a bit pale.  
  
“How are we today?” He asked quietly as he moved the blanket to the side so he could take a look at his daughter. She yawned sleepily and stretched a little, which made him smile. Her ginger blond hair was mussed from sleep and her light blue eyes were blinking up at him curiously from beneath long eyelashes. “Aa. Good, I see…”  
  
His fingers softly caressed one of her rounded rosy cheeks and the simple gesture earned him a toothless grin.  
  
“She woke up crying again,” Tauriel informed him with a sigh. “This wet-nurse is a complete disaster, Thranduil. We need a new one.”  
  
“Mhm,” he hummed in response, bending slightly to lay a kiss on her forehead. “I shall speak with Galion later today. In the meantime, I’m sure Maerel can take care of Ladrengil if the need arises.”  
  
“That sounds like a plan,” she said with a slow nod, her expression thoughtful. “Would you like to hold her?”  
  
“Hold who?”  
  
Thranduil glanced over his shoulder, suddenly reminded that they weren’t alone in the room.  
  
Legolas’ eyebrows nearly reached his hairline, though his overall facial expression didn’t change much. He just studied them with watchful eyes, apparently unaware or simply unbothered by the fact that he had just ruined his leggings with his father’s best wine.

-o-o-o-

Needless to say, Thranduil and Tauriel spent the next two hours recounting to Legolas the past three decades of their lives while the bewildered prince tried his very best to comprehend it all in one go. Throughout the entire length of the very uncomfortable conversation his eyes kept straying to the little girl tucked in the crook of his father’s elbow. She was babbling quietly to herself while one of her small hands was curled around his father’s index finger and the other was pulling at his hair.  
  
It was a bizarre sight to witness.  
  
Legolas couldn’t obviously remember if he had been doing the very same things when he was her age or if his father’s reactions were the same now as they were back then, though it was very likely the case. After all there was little else to do but wince and cringe when someone yanked repeatedly at your hair with enough force to make your head bob up and down quite rapidly.  
  
Finally, after hours of talking that made his head sway with an overflow of information, Tauriel took the child and went her way to attend to her duties.  
  
Duties.  
  
He pinched the bridge of his nose as Thranduil offered him another glass of wine. This time Legolas actually drank it eagerly, empting the goblet in three swings.  
  
Tauriel was the Queen of Mirkwood.  
  
He had a younger half-sister.  
  
His father was married to Tauriel.  
  
The world as he knew it was surely ending.  
  
“Where you planning to tell me?” He asked after a long moment of silence, directing both the question and his gaze to his father, who was sitting in the other chair, drumming his fingers against the armrests.  
  
“I sent two letters to Imlardis over two decades ago – one to you and one to Elrond. Yours contained an invitation to the wedding,” was the languid answer, laced with a healthy amount of annoyance. “I have absolutely no idea what that blasted Lindon healer did with them, but he apparently either lost them or forgot about them.”  
  
It looked as if Thranduil was ready to ride to the Valley this very moment just to give the Elven Lord who resided there a piece of his mind. For some reason Legolas actually felt inclined to pat him on the back and send him on his way, even though he liked Lord Elrond just fine and didn’t wish him to die a slow and painful death.  
  
Not that it would help in any way, but Legolas was feeling particularly vindictive.  
  
At least now he felt a bit better, knowing that this marriage wasn’t meant to be conducted in secret and that they never actually wanted to keep it from him.  
  
“The reason why you didn’t write to me… You thought I was angry, didn’t you?” He concluded with no small amount of surprise. “You truly thought that I wouldn’t want to return if you asked me to?”  
  
“Partially, yes,” his father admitted with a slightly bitter smile. “I remember how much time you two spent together over the centuries; how it hurt you when she had allied herself with that Dwarfish prince… It somehow seemed logical to assume that maybe you might have some feelings for her; that our relationship might have caused you pain in some way or another…”  
  
“I never loved her,” Legolas clarified, feeling that it was something he needed to get out of the way as soon as possible. “I admit I had fancied her for a while, a long time ago, but it passed away quickly and I never told her.” He laughed when he caught the rather perplexed look in Thranduil’s eyes. “As for the dwarf… I think I was more concerned about her well-being than jealous, to be honest.”  
  
There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke again.  
  
“I’m glad that you’ve managed to find happiness again. After _Naneth_ died I thought…”  
  
“Please,” Thranduil interrupted him. His body became tense and his eyes were squeezed shut, as if he were in pain and trying to will it away. “I can’t talk about her, son. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Forgive me, _Ada_ , I shouldn’t have…”  
  
“No, you have a right to know. Every right.” There was a smile dancing across his father’s lips as he said that, though it was small and somewhat broken. “I wish I could tell you; I wish I could answer your every question in regards to her, but I cannot do it… I doubt I will ever be able to.”  
  
“I understand.” He swallowed thickly, glancing down at his hands which were entwined and wrapped tightly around the empty wine glass. “My travels took me to Lorien… I know what you think about the Lady, but I just… I couldn’t… I don’t know. For the most part, I think I was simply curious… Mother hailed from those lands, after all, and I longed to find a connection, something to bring me closer to her after all these years… “ He paused for a moment to collect himself before continuing: “At any rate, the Lady showed me some things in the Mirror and… Yes, well, I think I do understand.”  
  
When he finally dared to look up, he found his father smiling at him with something akin to pride shining bright in his eyes.  
  
Somehow, this simple gesture kind of made the utter awkwardness of this entire day, as well as any nightmares that were sure to follow, worth the trouble.

-o-o-o-

It was late in the evening when Tauriel was finally able to return to the chambers she shared with Thranduil.  
  
Her day had been long, tedious, and filled with duties she would rather never perform again. After handling Ladrengil to her lady-in-waiting, Maerel, she dressed herself in the clothes fit for training and went to the fields to see the progress of the new recruits. She was even able to spar with two of them before a rather frantic guard came to her to inform her that the council needed either her or the king to step in and deal with Dain’s newest demands regarding their trade agreements. Since she was quite aware how her husband usually dealt with the dwarves and that he also was currently busy talking with his son, she decided to go and handle it herself.  
  
It wasn’t a wise choice on her part.  
  
The King under the Mountain was as stubborn as a mule and then some, and bargaining with him wasn’t an easy task.  
  
At least she was now certain that his emissary was on his way back to the mountain, more or less satisfied with the trade, and that neither she nor Thranduil would have to deal with the dwarves of Erebor for another month or so, which was always a good thing.  
  
After becoming a queen, she liked them better from afar.  
  
Upon entering the chambers, she found them empty, which meant that Thranduil must have gone to the springs. With a smile that made her eyes twinkle, she changed from the heavy green velvet dress she has worn to the meeting with the council into her favourite golden robe. It took her a while to unbraid her hair, because her maids were as per usual too eager to please and overdid the hairdo a little bit. When she was done, the long auburn waves reached well past her waist.  
  
She made her way to the private springs through a secret passage and arrived there just in time to see Thranduil emerge from beneath the surface of the water. Small droplets rolled down his pale skin. In the warm glow of the candlelight, which illuminated the entire cave, they looked like precious stones laid on marble.  
  
“Lingering in the shadows yet again…” She heard him say when he glanced at her over his shoulder, the corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk.  
  
“I’m not lingering,” she responded with a huff. “I’ve simply just arrived.”  
  
Walking over to the edge of the pool, she slowly disrobed, the silken material sliding against her bare skin easily. The look in Thranduil’s eyes darkened visibly at the sight. He turned to her, but didn’t move from his spot until she sat down and lowered her legs into the water. Once she did so, however, he was in front of her and standing right in-between her spread thighs in an instant.  
  
“Our anniversary turned out to be quite a disaster,” he murmured, laying a few butterfly kisses in the valley of her breasts. “Don’t you think?”  
  
“Mm, let me see… “ Tauriel combed her fingers through his wet hair before pressing her lips against the crown of his head. “First there was this rather unfortunate situation with Legolas…”  
  
“Don’t even remind me about that.”  
  
His hands moved up her sides and then cupped her breasts, gently kneading the soft flesh, which made her moan breathily.  
  
“Then we rendered him speechless when I arrived with our lovely little daughter…”  
  
Thranduil chuckled against her collarbone.  
  
“He wasted a glass of perfectly good wine.”  
  
“Then we talked.” She cringed at the memory. “It was probably the most awkward conversation of my entire life.”  
  
“And then Legolas and I talked some more after you left, which wasn’t as bad,” Thranduil informed her as his arms sneaked around her. He lifted her up from the edge and pulled her into the water, which made her shiver in pleasure. Sensing that he was about to lower her down completely, she wrapped her legs around his hips, which in turn made him hiss.  
  
A sigh of appreciation escaped her lips, when she felt his harden member press against her core.  
  
“And then I spent the entire day arguing with Dwarven Lords of Erebor.” She shifted against him with a wicked grin. It was the only form of revenge she was willing to bestow upon him now, but it was probably the best kind. “You didn’t tell me that they were coming today.”  
  
“I forgot,” he said dismissively. His mouth sought out hers, but she pulled away before he could actually kiss her and managed to put some distance between them by lightly yanking at his hair.  
  
“You shouldn’t lie to your wife,” she admonished him as she looked down at him from beneath her lashes. “It’s not nice, Thranduil.”  
  
“You wound me, _meleth_.” His face was the picture of innocence. “I wouldn’t dare do such a thing.”  
  
“Somehow, I don’t believe you…” She mumbled, but she still leant in and let him kiss her soundly.  
  
Everything about it was sensual, languid, and yet almost overpoweringly passionate. When they parted after a long moment, their foreheads touching, she was completely out of breath.  
  
“Did you have something planned for today?”  
  
“Mhm, I did,” he whispered in response. “We were supposed to spend the day in the gardens, share a nice meal surrounded by nature, and then make love until the stars were shining in the sky.”  
  
“How very romantic of you, _Melda-tar_.” She closed her eyes with a wishful sigh. “It would have been such a lovely day...”  
  
“We still have some time left, _hiril vuin…_ ”  
  
Her laugher at his words was swallowed instantly by him as he kissed her again.  
  
They did not talk much afterwards, consumed by their passion as they were.

-o-o-o-

  
Meanwhile, miles upon miles away, in Imlardis, Lord Elrond dropped his quill onto the ground in his office. It fell right beside his desk, which was covered in mountains of correspondence, books, and loose pieces of parchment. When he bent down to retrieve it, since he still needed to finish writing a letter to Lady Galadriel, he noticed a very peculiar thing.  
  
There was something stuck underneath his desk.  
  
Eyebrows raised in wonder, he pulled at the seemingly small piece of paper, which turned out to be a thick envelope. Now completely baffled by the unexpected discovery, he turned it around in his hands a few times to examine it, noting with some amount of concern that it looked quite old and was covered in a layer of dust.  
  
He opened it with hesitation and his eyes widened comically when he immediately recognized the elegant script of no other than King Thranduil on the two folded pieces of parchment that were tucked inside. Taking out the one addressed to him, he started to read the rather short and concise message that laid within.  
  
When he was done, he slowly walked over to the nearest chair and all but collapsed in to it.  
  
For a few long minutes he had absolutely no idea what to do or say.  
  
Legolas had left Rivendell almost two weeks ago with an intention to visit his father. He probably already reached the King’s Halls some time ago, so sending someone after him or even writing to him was quite useless at this point.  
  
“Well,” Elrond said to himself with a heavy sigh. “This is bound to get awkward…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ladrengil – valley of stars  
> Maerel - good/useful/fit  
> Melda-tar – beloved king  
> Hiril vuin – my lady  
> Naneth - mother

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Lirimamin Tauriel – My lovely Tauriel  
> meleth – beloved  
> Gi melin – I love you  
> ellon –male elf


End file.
